


Two Cold Spoons

by Fandomtrashed13



Series: Words Fail [1]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alana deserves recognition and struggles with her demons ok, Crying, F/M, The spoons fact is real and it works, Where is her fan art and stories that doesnt ship her with Zoe, struggles with depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-25 18:23:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16203080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandomtrashed13/pseuds/Fandomtrashed13
Summary: Alana had been feeling it for over the past month or two. Or maybe it was always there, a wave that had been growing and was finally crashing against the recently made sandcastle of composure. Either way, its there. Alana can see it, but she can't reach it.





	Two Cold Spoons

There are two spoons in front of her.

Alanas room was slightly messy. Dresser neat, closet organized, books dusted and stacked onto of each other from biggest to smallest. However, the covers of her bed were rumpled and folded over, her small desk a mess of highlighters, Post-It notes, and pencils. A textbook for one of the AP classes she was taking hanged over the edge of the desk, threataning to fall off yet she did not notice. Right now she did not care

Alana was seated at her desk with two spoons, a bottle of water and her laptop. Her father had given it to her two years ago, and had jokingly said that she could look up porn in it in private, winking misheviously while her mother let out a scandolous gasp. But Alana mostly used it for school or looking up how to make a living, protecting your bank account, debit or credit or what to stop the growing noise in her head.

There were two spoons in front of her

When her parents had said they would be spending sometime out at a little cheesecake restaurant, Alana might have been too happy for them, but really she couldnt help it. Answering their how-was-your-day questions were becoming exhausting, she would get in trouble if she spent more than five minutes in her room, and her mother was always bustling around the house, flinging open doors without knocking. And she was beginning to crave for silence, beginning to feel drained as she tried to talk to her parents. The fact that their little date-they try to deny it, but Alana's not dumb-on a Friday, Alana was escatic. They would probably head over to the cheesecake place, maybe run into heavy traffic or run into some old aquatinces or friend. Something that will keep them outside for a little longer.

When she got him earlier today, her parents had informed her that they would be leaving in an hour for a movie. Then, they said, they would go eat. They would be back in "a jiffy." "Do you need anything from outside?" her mother had asked as she smoothed her dark red dress, eyeing her immaculate hair. Her daughter shook her head and nodded along to what her father was saying. It was the usual rules whenver her parents went out: Don't answer the phone unless you recognize the number, don't answer the door unless its someone you know, don't stay up waiting for us, call us if anything happens. "Got it?" her father asked.

Alana smiled, nodded and wished them a fun time. 

Now, the door to her room was locked, the home phone was on her bed, and there were two spoons infront of her. 

Alana had been feeling it for over the past month or two. Or maybe it was always there, a wave that had been growing and was finally crashing against the recently made sandcastle of composure. Either way, its there. Alana can see it, but she can't reach it.

And that's where the laptop comes into play.

Opening it, she looked through Youtube for those 'Try not to cry challenge!!!!' videos on the website. The crusour hovered over the first result. And for some reason, she was hesitating. 

Suddenly, a barage of questions filled to the brim with doubt filled her head. What if her parents come home? What if someone calls and she'd have to answer in a quivering voice. Would that caller ask more questions, worry about some stupid girl who was sniveling about her problems? And was she doing the right thing, crying when she had clothes on her back and a fridge full of food and a place that taught her? Why cry when she had that worksheet from Biology to do and those last two math problems?

There were two spoons infront of her.

_'Fuck it.'_

_"_ Fuck it," she said outloud and the swear resounded throughout the room, the house even.

She clicked on it.

The video was about a mother losing her daughter. The daughter looked young, probably six or seven, but apparently it didn't matter to the man who kidnapped and assulted her. He had hurt her badly, touched her badly, and then killed her. The mother was distraught, sobbing and begging someone to end her because she had been so, so stupid to answer that damn phone call. Except at the end, the daughter was alive and was brought back home. A women, a randome jogger, had saved her from being assulted and had taken a beating from the man.

And sure enough, the tears came. 

They came when the little girl ran to her mother crying. Alana felt her throat closing up, the back of her eys stinging, and was aware of somehting hot slipping down her cheeks. There were sobs now, coming out choked from her throat, snot running down. She's gasping, eyes closed as she cried for the mother, the daughter, for herself.

God, when was the last time she had cried? Probably when she had been younger and had not swallowed back tears when she saw that she had gotten a C on a test that she had studied so damn hard. Or when she had cut herself when chopping cucumbers and the cut had been so she had shrieked. It didn't matter because this crying was better than small sniffles in the shower or silent cries in her pillow late at night after stressing over a re-written paper.

God, she needed this. She didn't need to laugh she needed to cry because laughing involves smiling and she's been smiling so much.

When Alana's done, she feels drained but relieved. Unscrewing the bottle of water, she closes her laptop and walks over to the bathroom. Runs the spoons with cold water and as she does this she glances at her reflection. The girl staring back at her has red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Snot leaves a trail from her nose and chin. Gross

Google had said that cold spoons can get rid of red eyes after crying. It had also said something about tapping your eyes gently or massaging your nose, but Alana finds this more effective.

She hisses when she applies the spoons. They're ice cold, burning a little but do the job. After a few minutes, she washes her face and puts some lotion on. When she looks at her reflection again, the girl in the mirror looks tired. Yes, she was tired. Of school, of her parent advising her to study harder almost every fucking day, of smiling at aquatinces, of feeling like she's not enough because every day she wakes up wanting to stay under the covers forever and just think about her, her, and her and maybe no one will notice that smart and lonely girl. Maybe she can play hooky and skip school because her hand still aches from taking notes that she'll probably only use once.

Instead, she washes the two spoons. Alana doesn't know when she'll have to use them again.

**Author's Note:**

> Tfw you go super poetic and deep in the middle of a story.  
> When Alana said that she knew what it felt like to be just like Connor, my heart broke. Here's this girl, whose struggling with school and a social life, whose lonely and is given something that can help people-the Connor Project. Imagine how she felt when she found out all of it was a lie?  
> And there are such little stories about Alana too!!! like wtf yall she deserves as much recognition and love as other characters.  
> Anyway, sorry if this is rushed and if you're struggling with inner demons too I just want you to know that you'll get through it.That bad day you have? Maybe it'll turn into a second? Just remember to take your meds, talk to someone, and if you want to cry bc thats a stress reliever-cry. It doesnt mean you're weak it means youre strong for fighting.  
> See ya scouts


End file.
